


I guess I am your Prom Queen....

by PhakeFysics



Series: Fallen Hero - Abyss/Anton [12]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhakeFysics/pseuds/PhakeFysics





	I guess I am your Prom Queen....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SephtisThan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SephtisThan/gifts).

Incompetent. Idiot. You deserve this. 

Your suit is heavy around your body as you claw yourself from some wreckage, only to feel a tight pull against your leg. The world spins and your lungs are filled with smoke, your ears ringing and everything sounding muffled like in you were in space. You felt like you got ejected out an airlock. Well, to be honest, you’ve never been to space, but you’re sure this is what it feels like.

You’re helplessly pinned under rubble, uselessly clawing at the ground to free yourself. A premature detonation. Luckily you hadn’t rigged the rest of the bombs, but the ones you had activated, went off too soon. You immediately knew the problem - a short somewhere. An error in the coding. 

This is what happens when you don’t properly test in a safe environment before hand. You deserve this. Damned idiot.

Your vision slowly calms as you look around, only one eye could see out - no… no no. You weakly close your good eye, keeping the other open to see that no - it was just your darkened mask - thank god…

However… you can feel the sharp pull of a mask shard in your cheek. Probably the suit’s seals blasted the shards of your mask outward, and away from you. Otherwise you’d be sliced up far worse. All you can do at this point is just… wait for the Rangers to get to you, honestly. 

So this was how Abyss’ chaos ended? By their own hubris, huh? What a joke. 

You hated poetic irony.

The fire climbed higher into the building, the structure becoming unstable. Huh… maybe it would fall on you. A mercy kill. 

You’re about to let unconsciousness take you when you see heeled boots clicking towards you with an odd grace over rubble, rebar and glass. How anyone could expertly traverse this mess in 4 inch heels is beyond you… 

The subtle orange glow along the ebony armor were hidden by the orange flickers of flame around you. You hear a low rumbling ‘tsk’ as the armored boots stop in front of you. All you do is wheeze at the person talking to you, unconsciousness slipping over you like a cold shroud.

-  
So… Abyss got caught up in one of their own explosions, it seemed. Their helmet is mostly just shards of glass now, one larger shard jutting out of their cheek, trickling with blood as they lie helplessly, limply under the rubble. There was only a brief flash of golden eyes before they flutter shut, falling unconscious.  
-  
You wake up again, heaving a choking cough as life seems to flush back into your lungs, and you open your eyes to stare at the night sky. Your helmet is gone and you can see with both eyes, luckily. The ringing in your ears has subsided by now and you weakly sit up. The remnants of your helmet have been taken off and set aside. Nothing feels broken… maybe a few cracked ribs and plenty of bruises at the most. 

You look over at your shattered helmet with a scowl… damned expensive. All that money down the fuckin’ drain, is all you can think. A shift of movement catches your eye. You realize that your cape and hood are off and had been your pillow on the rooftop. Your golden eyes flick to the imposing visage you have come to recognize; Apollo.

He approaches you, and doesn’t have to say anything. You _know_ he’s grinning all too happily at seeing your face. You just move to get up so that he’s not towering over you too terribly much. 

“So I take it you drug me from that building?” you click your tongue, having to school your features into that practiced neutrality.

A clawed hand flicks out and oh-so carefully runs a claw tip along your jaw, stopping at your chin and tilting your head up the inch to meet Apollo’s gaze. You’re forced to comply, as those claws against unprotected skin spelled immediate danger, and you weren’t in the mood for more of that tonight.

Welp… Apollo knew your face now. And that was that. All you could do was mitigate your ire and fear at the loss of anonymity. 

“My, my, such a sour look. It doesn’t suit you much at all, darling,” Apollo purrs, face mask leaning close to your face, knowing that bastard is taking in every detail - no doubt to hunt you down during the day and… well you don’t know. You haven’t a clue whose beneath the mask… but they sure as hell know you now. And you hate that with every fiber of your being.

“I’m sure,” you drawl evenly and Apollo tilts his head at your unmodulated voice, the tenor of it probably ringing much differently than the usual hiss of your modulator. “So I suppose you can call us even. On the deal… remember? The thing you wanted to make but never offered something in return?” you raise your pierced eyebrow, chin still lifted at the whim of Apollo’s claw.

Apollo chuckles darkly and finally relinquished his hand briefly, only to cup your chin in his palm now. It seemed he wasn’t finished taking your face in. You had entertained his flirting for a while now - even reciprocating at points. But your mask was off and you weren’t about to entertain the divide it created within yourself. 

You straddled this disorienting line between Abyss and Anton and you weren’t sure who you were supposed to be at this juncture. You huff a sigh as Apollo finally releases you, but doesn’t back away. You stand your ground. This asshole won’t win. He already saved your life, essentially. And you _knew_ he was going to lord it over you for some time now.

“Ah yes.. That deal… well that’s all fun and all, but I hardly believe it compares to saving your life just now.”

Oh fucking hell, you knew it. There he went, lording it over you, just as expected.

You fold your arms, raising an eyebrow, showing the unamusement and slight irritation you felt. “Oh? Then fine. Name your price,” you drawl in edging frustration.

“How about a date?”

“....Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter?”

You scowl at that emotionless mask, “I’m a terrible conversationalist,” you lie.

“Don’t need conversation,” you hear the wide, feral grin and you have to force your entire body from convulsing in abject disgust.

Heaving another sigh, you raise a hand to shove some loose hair behind your ear, “Fine. Fine if it’ll make us even, I’ll entertain you for an evening.” you state evenly. 

You just hear the grin go wider.

_Verdammt…_


End file.
